Luyện nghe bài hát Light Pollution

John A. Hobson was a man
He used to me books and mic stands
He even got me a
To the Review

Listening to records in his
Old songs about the government
It's love of not the market
He said these fuckers on you

And yells, it don't cry
sells will decide
But there's no when you die
So don't look so

He got a life, lost his day job
Pushing papers, pendulums
Anything to a function
Or to some time

You earn this living somehow
good as dead without a bank account
But it's funny how alive he has down
In that line

With all that trash at his
The of piss in the street
All of that empathy
For the way feeling

worry
Don't
Don't

The billboards
The flags wave
The playing loud
The baseball was letting out

And all at
You saw the dust and
Every tiny
Got in his truck and around

out through the crowd and the cops
Drove out that center mall
out past that sickening sprawl
Out past fenced in gold

And he lost control
Fucking with the
But I bet the stars so close
At the end

At the end
At the end
At the end
...